Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

The last words and journal of Edward Jenkings.---

Forward

I was at Edward's side when he finally passed from his mortal coil. Besides giving me his journal, he gave me accounts that would shrivel a man's fortitude. I present his words and research to the world so that all may know that there are things beyond our ken, things which we should not ever seek. Here I shall present the experiences and knowledge that Edward has given me. I am too afraid to verify these accounts, and after you read them, I dare say that you will be too.

-Arthur Montgomery-------

Preliminary Interview

"Arthur, my dear friend, I have seen and read things that are not fit for people to know. But I must tell at least one person, and though it weighs nightly on me, you are the only friend who may be able to carry this burden. As you know, I have all my life sought that which was considered supernatural, or unnatural, or just completely fantastic. I tell you- there are things out there, perhaps that only intersect with our reality occasionally. But they are horrible things. Some I have seen myself, with my own cursed eyes, others I gleaned from news reports, or sometimes from eyewitness accounts. I have written as much within my journal, which I give you now as I soon will pass without an heir to lay this heavy burden upon. I need to describe how these tortuous events unfolded, so please record my words for the future.

"It all started in my twenties when after much searching I found the Necronomicon. Yes, that book that all believe Lovecraft created in his mind. No, it was not fiction. It was a real book he found buried deep in the libraries that he loved to haunt. The "Mad Arab" Abdul Alhazred was real. He, too, saw things much as I did. He was not mad without reason. I may be mad; how am I to know? I will let you, or others, judge my statements and writings. I had run down many, many leads as to the veracity of this book, and it took me many years and many miles of traveling, but I finally found it in an old Cambodian temple. How it got there, no one knows. But that story is for another day. Let me recount the events I saw after I gained possession of the book…

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

Took a while, but here is installment 1-

===========

Event 1

Edward’s Journal, page 24.

For years I have travelled to many places of knowledge. I would find a hint here, a clue there. I became increasingly despondent that I would ever find the object of my desire. Nay, at this point it has become an obsession- the Necronomicon. I truly believed it to real, and I was RIGHT! My enjoyment, my excitement was short lived, though. It seems that I have disturbed something elemental in this world. Before I discuss that, let me retell what I have witnessed, as insane as it may seem.

As I approached the temple of Angor Wat, I was nearly trembling with energy. Finally I may have found the resting place of the cursed tome. I kept my true motives to myself, for supposedly the book was in a secret, hidden area deep within the temple. I wanted no interference, I wanted the find to be mine, and mine alone. Besides, would the monks of this place even allow me to remove such a relic? Was it placed here to seal it from prying eyes, or as a way to negate its evil forces? Did the care keepers even know what they held? I did not want to be deterred at this point.

As I surreptiously worked my way deeper into the temple, I could feel an energy building. It may have just been in my mind, but I swear I could feel the power emanating nearby. I finally found the markings that showed the way into the secret passage, as described by an old trader’s manuscripts from centuries ago. While vague, the descriptions of the book he saw must, MUST, be the Necronomicon! Why he didn’t take it with him, he did not say. But all the better for me, for now I shall be able to peruse the secrets that the book holds.

As silently as possible, I pushed on the required stone, and to be truthful, I was half surprised that it worked. I had been disappointed so many times before. A portion of the wall pivoted in slightly, revealing a dark passageway. I pulled out my flashlight and noted the dust within; this place had not been disturbed in years, decades, maybe centuries. I crept forward with trepidation, not knowing what to expect. After a short walk, the passage opened to a bare square room with a slab of rock in the middle. It almost resembled an altar. On the rock rested a large book, nearly the size of a smallish briefcase. The cover was of an odd leather, the binding obviously hand-crafted. I laid my hand on the tome and felt what seemed like a crackling, pulsing power coming from it. As I wondered over this phenomena, I heard a low voice chuckle behind me.

Spinning around quickly I saw a swarthy man, dressed in clothing more appropriate for a location such as Egypt. Swaddled in robes, with a turban, but with his face exposed. His countenance was pleasant, but his eyes possessed some depth of knowledge that was frightening. He demeanor was pleasant but I was still off-put by his casual attitude. He exuded a confidence totally out of the normal for such a situation. “Who is this man,” I thought to myself, before posing the same question to the intruder. “I am known by many names, but you can call me The Captain.”“Why are you here, what captain are you?”“I am the Captain of many things. Some fair and some foul. With your discovery, you too will learn of what I speak.”“What… what does that mean!”“Do not worry. You shall learn sooner than you expect. You have set actions into motion. And you WILL be seeing me again. Until then, tread carefully.”He turned and walked down the passageway. I grabbed the book and ran after him, but when I got to the main corridor, there was no sight of him. Looking back down the secret passage, I noticed there was only two pairs of foot tracks, one leading in and one leading out. Who or what was this man? Pondering this, I closed the door and began my way out with my prized book.

The walk out was uneventful until I reached the large antechamber at the entrance of the temple. Here three corridors, one from each side emptied into the room, with the fourth wall holding the exit.

As I walked in a young gentleman with an oddly stained white shirt also walked in from the left holding a rifle and a cricket bat. He looked at me and asked, “Where the bloody hell am I?”“Um… Angor Wat.”“Angor what the bollocks are you on about!”“Ahh, hi, I’m Edward, we’re in the temple of Angor Wat, in Cambodia.”“How nice. I’m Shaun. What the fuck am I doing here!”As I prepared to answer something that looked like a mummy dipped in mud or tar shuffled in from the right-side corridor. Staring at Shaun this, thing, growled “Braaains.”“What the hell is this! I’m in Cambodia with Mr. Tar Monster Man? My girlfriend is going to be pissed.”“Sorry.”

The Tar Man (I admit, that was a clever name for it) shuffled towards Shaun flailing his arms about and growling some more.“Ed, you have any ideas here?”“Kill it?”“How?”“Well, it looks like a mummy zombie thing.”“Bollocks!”Shuan shouldered his rifle and fired off a few rounds into the chest, then two into the head. The Tar Man was knocked back a bit with each hit, but seemingly none the worse, so to speak. Shaun must have ran out of bullets, for he dropped his rifle, picked up his bat and charged the Tar Man. Yelling “arrghh” or something similar he started beating the creature viciously. While the thing is took visible damage, it would not stop trying to get to Shaun. Finally Shaun took a big swing at the Tar Man’s head, edge on with the bat. Surprisingly, the creature’s head was removed from the body. Even more surprisingly, the body kept moving sans head. As the body wandered around aimlessly, Shaun looked at me, said “I’m out,” and walked out of the temple.

Trying to recover my senses, I waited a few minutes to see if I had been hallucinating. Sadly, no, there was still a blinking head and a wondering body in the room with me. Not knowing what to do, I just left the temple without a look back. I can only wonder what the monks thought when they came upon that scene.

-------Interlude 1- Conversation with Edward

“What did you think of that encounter, Edward?”

“I was obviously shocked at something so bizarre. After that odd man’s warning, I shouldn’t have been so surprised. Especially after what happened next.”

“Which was?”

“I took the Necronomicon back home to study. So much knowledge, so many mysteries. It spoke of places and events all over the world. I knew I had to go to these places, investigate the events. Before I could start this mission though I read about another very odd story. A college student repeated a story that was at least as strange as the one I had seen. It involved a group of college students that lived in an apartment building on Elm Street, and a silly dare during a party that turned out to be not so silly after all…”

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

Chapter 2 (or event 2, whatever)------------

Event 2

Edward’s Journal, page 36.

After reading some of the Necromicon, I started to see a pattern of creatures entering our world. Rituals, both serious and games, thinned the wall between our reality and another. In this elder tome, it resulted in stories of dragons, chimeras, and other foul beasts. I fear that with my removal of the book from its resting place, I may have set into motion another series of events, but this time based on more recent horrors. The first such occurrence happened shortly after my return to my home. As I was always looking for strange and supernatural things, one of my oft-frequented websites had a story from a college in the American southeast.

I am not conversant with much popular media. I have spent nearly my whole life in academic pursuits. But this story I am about to recount has opened my eyes to a larger world that may not be what it seems. The story is about two young ladies attending the University of Tennessee, who were the only survivors of what police can only describe as “a massacre” of hideous proportions. One the women is in the hospital, catatonic, while the other reported a tale that most are saying are the ravings of a damaged mind. Whether that mind was damaged before or after these events she related is still in question.

There were a group of students attending a branch of the University of Tennessee at Martin, TN. They lived in an apartment complex on Elm Street. After a nearby mysterious fire that claimed one life, identity unknown, several of the students began having disturbing nightmares. Some were so upset that they sought professional counseling, and with therapy sessions were given some sleep aids. A few weeks later on of those students was found hanging by a rope around the neck. Most presumed it was suicide, though no letter was found. Some of his friends had wild tales that a “stalker of dreams” had somehow killed their friend. The authorities basically laughed at them and told them to stop watching so many horror movies.

Shortly after that, a female student was found in the bath with many razor-like cuts across her body. Again, the police deemed it a suicide. Others questioned this, as most suicides will just cut their wrists, while her body had over twenty cuts all over, including on her back. Some reporters tried to talk to the students about the “dream boogeyman,” but none would speak about the subject.

Here is when the fantastical aspect of the girl’s story begins. The girl, Renee, and her friend Allie, wanted to throw a birthday party for their friend Toby. It should be noted that most of the friends invited had also been having these nightmares, and had begun to call the dream stalker “Freddy,” after a popular horror movie franchise villain. I had to look up this Freddy, and the similarities between the movies and what was happening was, frankly, frightening.

But here is where the story goes, as some would say, “off the rails.” During this party, apparently Freddy showed up and started killing off guests! There is no video, only the words of one traumatized girl to go on. Renee and her friend Allie locked themselves in a bathroom, where Allie thought up the idea of calling “Candyman” to help them. After looking up this fellow, I have no idea what they were thinking, as he is also a horror villain. But they do the Mirror Ritual (remember what I said earlier about rituals?), and Candyman appeared just as Freddy is knocking down the bathroom door.

Freddy asks, “What are you doing here?”Answers Candyman, “Taking what is mine.”“If you want a mine, go get some coal! Ah ha ha ha ha!”

As he plunged his knife-glove into Candyman’s belly, without even flinching Candyman slits the front of Freddy across the chest. Neither appear to bothered in the least by the wounds. Renee says she and Allie then just cowered in the bathtub and the fight went on, which seemed like hours. Hearing her description, I highly doubt it went on that long as the neighbors would have called the police much, much earlier. Once the sounds of fighting died down, the girls crept out of the bathroom. Walking into the living room, the head of Candyman sailed at them, landing in Allie’s arms just as the police are pulling up.

“I’ll be seeing you later, alligator,” as Allie began to scream nonstop. Freddy walked out the backdoor, with no other witness besides Renee to prove what happened.

Allie was never able to give a coherent statement, and will scream at any reflective surface, and cannot tolerate any darkness at all. Her doctors have low hopes of her recovering from what they call a dissociative break from reality. Renee has been cleared of any of the murders, but she has been ordered to attend intensive psychological counseling sessions to try and determine what exactly happened that night. The only comfort she seems to take in the world is her stuffed penguin. She calls him Toby.

----------------------------

Interlude 2- Discussion with Edward

“Do you think the was related to your taking of the book?”“I can’t say for sure, but later happenings makes me think so.”“Why?”“This was far from the last of events I’ve read about, or even have seen with my own eyes.”“Such as?”“I was traveling west to California, and I stopped at a very nice hotel. I believe it was called the Stanley. While there, two men decided to go mad. At the time, I thought it merely a coincidence, but after more weird shit happening, I think I may have been carrying the curse of the Necronomicon with me. Also, I met the man from Angor Wat for the second time there…”

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

^^Yay! But man, does it need a few revisions or what! I'm just trying to get the 1st draft out there for people to peruse and pound on it. It's going to get more interesting when UDog's stories get more complex, especially if his winner is not the final winner. Going to have to finesse that some.

I think I might be introducing you in this upcoming episode. Lon Burton and his trusty dog Max. (You won't actually die any time soon; can't promise on the future, though).

After 2 fights I'm on page 11. With 32 fights, plus the playoffs(42?), plus the exhibitions(10?), this is going to be one looooong story. Good thing I like to write. 5 X 52 = oh, fuck me....

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

^^Sorry I have to change some of them on you. I try to be as faithful as possible. On the good side, you just piddled on my foot (see below)!

============

Here is Event 3 (Howdy gets pissed)-

Event 3

Edward’s Journal, page 50.

Knock, knock.“Who is it,” I called to the late night knock on my suite’s door.“An acquaintance from a year ago.”

As I looked through the peephole, I recognized the man. Dressed in a fine suit rather than robes, I could see by his eyes this was the man I met in Cambodia. I unlocked the door and let him in.

“How have you been, Dr. Jenkings?” he asked.“It has been… odd.”“Strange things occurring, things you can’t explain, perhaps?”“You could say that, Captain.”“Oh no, I’m no longer a captain, I gave that up. You can just call me Howdy now.”“What kind of name is that? What kind of name is that, are you planning on auditioning as a puppet for a TV show?” I sneered.“Don’t fool with me, bitch! If I wanted I would twist your heart out of your asshole and feed it back into you through your eyes! I have my reasons to speak with you, you feeble lump of meat.”Somehow, I knew that he could carry out that hideous promise, so I feebly asked, “And what reasons would those be?”“Better, you sniveling slave. There are… powers that I represent, that for the moment align with your desire for knowledge. You are a tool to them, and as long as you are useful, I’ll obey their wishes to not eat your liver while you watch.”“So I’m pretty much fucked?”“Yep.”“Alright, so what do I do next, since I like my liver where it is right now?”“You need to find the Mountains of Madness.”“Want to share a hint or two?”“Oh Christ, do I have to spell everything out for you! They’re in the Transantarctic mountain range, fool.”“Antarctica?”“Do I stutter?”“Damn it. I hate the cold.”“This is the help I get, a little girl who pees herself at the sight of an ice cube? I hate you, Azathoth. Now get on it, jackass, you have work down there.”“What work?”“Just get down there. NOW!”

As he stormed out of the room by slamming the door so hard I thought it would splinter, I hit the mini-bar hard. To the point I finished it off and had to go to the bar lounge. Antarctica? How do you even get down there I wondered over and over. There are cruises that go around it, but the only places ON it are government bases. This is going to take some research. As I pounded down a few shots at the bar, I realized I needed to call my old friend Lon. A writer by trade, he seemed to have connections everywhere. I made a note to myself to call him when I was somewhere near sober.

After an hour, or two maybe, a gentleman sat down next to me. He introduced himself as Jack, a custodian of the hotel. As it was fall, and the hotel was getting ready to shut down for the winter season (the roads became nearly impossible to pass in the winter months), he was starting to prepare for the off-season. For an employee of the hotel, he seemed to drink quite a lot, and I was surprised the bartended let him. The more he drank, the odder the conversation went. He started talking about his book he was writing, and how his wife was messing with his writing. Also. A bit of nonsense about ghosts dancing in the ballroom, which from where I was sitting, I couldn’t see a thing.

As I (admittedly, not on very stable legs) walked to the main desk to request my mini-bar be restocked, the night manager took a call. I heard “What! When? Two women? Are you sure?” He then hung up and called 911. “Yes, this is the manager of the Stanley Hotel, and I need police and at least two ambulances. Yes, at least two women have been stabbed.” At this point I decided I should just go to my room and sleep.

Well, that was the plan. With the ensuing chaos of medics and police, I was up until 3 AM. Finally they all left, with only my head pounding. Stupidly, I thought I could try to obtain a refill on my mini-bar from the front desk, so I dragged myself back down to the main floor. Here I was confronted with another horrible scene- the night manager bent over backwards on the counter as a tall, thin man stabbed him in the throat. I started to desperately jabbing at the “Close Door” button, wanting nothing to do with another horrible sight. But then a voice caught my attention, which made me catch the closing doors.

The man, Jack, from the bar earlier was yelling at the murderer. “What the fuck do you think are you doing, asshole!”“Mother told me I have to do my work.”“This is my hotel! I do all the work here!”“Mother doesn’t think so. She told me I have to do my chores.”“What in the hell are you talking about! Who the hell are you!”“I’m Norman. My mother tells me who must be punished.”“You’re insane, ass monkey! I’ll tell you what happens in MY hotel!”

Jack then grabbed an axe from one of those emergency fire spots and ran at this Norman. He pulled the dripping knife out of the throat of the very dead manager and squared up to face Jack. I must say, Norman was fast, and got quite a few swipes on Jack. Even with a good four or five bleeding wounds, Jack showed no sign of fatigue or even pain. With all the blood now drenching the floor, Norman slipped, just a bit. That was all the opening Jack needed to land a solid his into Norman’s torso. As he grasped the axe, trying to pull it out of his soon to be dead body, Norman whispered “Mother will not be pleased.” He then fell over and was gone.

With a scream Jack celebrated his victory. Then he saw me cowering in the elevator. He pulled the axe from the corpse with a meaty sucking sound, walked over, pointed the axe at me and said, “If I see you tomorrow, you can join him.” I finally got the elevator doors closed. Nearly crying at what I just witnessed, I somehow managed to stuff my belongings into my bags and left the hotel. The hours after that are mostly a blur. When I once regained my senses, I was at least a hundred miles away from the hotel. I put the radio on a news station; it was all about the murders in the hotel. A total of three women, the manager, and two counted as missing. One was the custodian, and I realized the other missing person was me. I considered calling the police to tell the what I knew, or thought I knew, but decided that it would be best for me to just be considered missing. At least for now. I truly thought I may be cursed now, and how much further damage could I cause?

Interlude 3- Discussion with Edward

“Did they ever find the custodian, or catch up with you?”“They did find his body later, but that is a story to be told later. As for me, when the authorities did question me, I told them that I had left early and the manager was not around. Since I had used a credit card for the deposit, the hotel just charged it later, so there was no problem on that front. When I asked them what the problem was, they told me about the murders (of which I already knew about, but I played dumb). An interesting detail was that at the time that I saw the two men fight, the video cameras in the lobby acted up, only leaving static on the recording tapes.”“What did you do after the leaving the hotel.”“I went to California, but instead of going to where I planned, I went to Los Angeles and called my friend Lon. He was an old friend I could trust, and also delved into some of the same supernatural things that I did. I paid for his ticket to LAX, though he had to leave Max behind. I’m fairly sure Max was mad about that, since the next time I saw him he piddled on my shoe.”“So what did you talk about with Lon when he got to LA?”“How to get to the “Mountains of Madness.” He told me about an long-time-ago exploratory group that had made it into the interior of Antarctica, but only one made it back out. That man raved about demons and creatures and things in the dark, total lunacy. But he did carry a map with him. No one thought anything of his ravings, but they did keep his possessions. My friend stumbled across them while doing some research into Antarctica. He always had a fondness for the place, for whatever reason.

“Anyway, he gave me a copy of the map. It would be a hellish place to get to, even with a properly outfitted team of explorers. I decided to just get to one of the bases in Antarctica first, just to get an idea of what the place was like. Little did I know that just being on that continent would be enough to show me more horrors...”

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

^^That's kinda funky. I tossed Burton out there as a 'Jack Burton' reference, which is even weirder since I've know John's to have the nickname Jack. Great, I'm writing into my own 'Mouth of Madness' story at this point....

Separate topic- does anyone know if you can embed audio and or video files into eBooks? I ask for 2 reasons.1) I plan on have a section that is just a taped conversation between 2 people, which may be lengthy. I thought that having the audio with a transcript would be an interesting way to pull the audience in more.2) I would have to bring someone in to help with this, but for some sections if I could have a grainy security camera catch bits of some of the fights. Probably too much to ask, since it would probably require pro-level software.

Also, anyone know a way that I could make up fake old newspaper clippings I could insert into the story as graphics? I know how to insert graphics, just not certain how to make it look like an old-timey newspaper clipping.

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

azathoth wrote:

^^That's kinda funky. I tossed Burton out there as a 'Jack Burton' reference, which is even weirder since I've know John's to have the nickname Jack. Great, I'm writing into my own 'Mouth of Madness' story at this point....

Separate topic- does anyone know if you can embed audio and or video files into eBooks? I ask for 2 reasons.1) I plan on have a section that is just a taped conversation between 2 people, which may be lengthy. I thought that having the audio with a transcript would be an interesting way to pull the audience in more.2) I would have to bring someone in to help with this, but for some sections if I could have a grainy security camera catch bits of some of the fights. Probably too much to ask, since it would probably require pro-level software.

Also, anyone know a way that I could make up fake old newspaper clippings I could insert into the story as graphics? I know how to insert graphics, just not certain how to make it look like an old-timey newspaper clipping.

Re: Lon's and UnderDog's HM Battles Story

If you have video or audio content you would like us to add to your eBook, we can certainly help you. The cost for these enhancements is a flat fee of $200 when adding up to 20 media files to eBooks we have developed, or $400 when adding up to 20 media files to ePub files created by other companies.

It's technically possible but only Apple and B&N currently support the format.